Careless wreck
by CatchersRiddle
Summary: Pansey swore she'd get her revenge. She just didnt know how yet. But one thing was for sure..a girl who suffered a broken heart, fell into a circle of drugsalcohol, & watch her family be murdered would be capable of anything to get her life back on track.


The kitchens; the ultimate getaway, and the only place where you can wallow in your sorrows freely by doing anything you like. That was the definition in Pansey's mind at least. Most people ran to the room of requirements, or some place outside like the lake or the forest to get rid of their aggressions, but Pansey preferred to stick to the kitchens. Not only was there kick-ass food, but there were elves there who made you feel like the most wanted person in the universe.

She sat on top of the kitchen counter, legs folded neatly in front of her. A book rested gently on her lap; Pride and Prejudice, a muggle classic she'd found in the muggle studies classroom. Pansey wasn't much of a reader, but the love stories made her heart ache, and as masochistic as it sounded, Pansey liked the feeling. All the controversies of the olden days and the family names seemed like hardly something to wrangle over, but it was always the little things that ruined love anyway.

A short cigarette stub poked out the side of her mouth, the usual accessory that came with her depression streaks. A half drunk bottle of beer rested lightly in her right hand, which she'd been working on for the past three days. It was like she had an alternate personality when she became depressed. She'd go from a straight O student, who was always clean and did everything right, to a class-ditcher, druggie, and alcoholic goth girl (minus the black lipstick and combat boots). But that was Pansey. Losing everything you'd ever wanted in life, where else were you supposed to turn to?

She barely flinched when the door opened. She didn't really care. Even if it was a teacher, because that's just who she was. She was a careless wreck, who probably would have traded her soul to a demon just for the thrill.

"Oh, gross!" Pansey turned, recognising the voice as Ileana, a fifth year Gryffindor. She watched as the brunette walked into the kitchens. "It really stinks in here." Ileana exclaimed, eyes homing in on the ciggerette hanging out of Pansey's mouth. Pansey turned her head towards the girl and simply raised an eyebrow as she watched Ileana's face twitch in disguist, Ileana walked over to the girl. "You're smoking around where out food is being made. That's so vile! Can't you do that somewhere else?" she complained.

Pansey didn't say anything, instead blowing a perfect ring of smoke into her face, "Suck it up." She muttered as she jumped off the counter, "The food was already wasted, I'm pretty sure a little smoke wouldn't hurt it." She swayed on her feet for a few seconds, before steadying herself. Then she looked at the girl who'd walked in fully, "No, I like it here. And if you don't, then you can leave."

Pansey smirked a little when Ileana gagged and covered her mouth and noise with her left hand. "That's so disgusting," she replied loudly, but muffled, through her hand. "And fricking rude. I'm not leaving. I'm not allowed outside the grounds, so I'll go wherever I like inside, alright? And I choose here." She removed her hand from her face, and Pansey gathered it was because it was awkward to talk that way.

Pansey rolled her eyes, "Wuss." She muttered, then laughed, "I'm sorry that you're all restricted and stuff but...I don't really care where you go. You're not bothering me as much as I'm bothering you so I'm okay with whatever the hell you choose to do." She sat down on the table then, and resumed her previous position.

"Can't you just put it out? It's filling the whole place. How can you smoke that stuff anyways? I bet it tastes foul. And I think it's against the rules to smoke in the school." Ileana asked.

Pansey looked over at her, "Nope. I don't think I will." She murmured, smiling brightly at her, "It tastes like a cigarette hun, which isn't foul. And who cares about rules?"

"Who the heck are you, anyways?" Ileana questioned, wrinkling her nose and taking a step away from the smoking girl. "I mean, why can't you do that outside? You know that stuff's addicive, right?" she told the girl more than she asked her. "And it's bad for you. It's unhealthy. And I bet cigarette does taste foul. Yuck," she said, for emphasis.

"It's Pansey. Don't...really remember my last name right now." She shrugged, then rolled her eyes, "Oh my god." She said, extremely irritated, "Look, if it makes you feel better, I'll put it out. Just..._shut up_." She threw her cigarette on the ground and stomped it out, then picked up her beer and pressed it to her lips as she looked at the girl, "So. What's _your _name?" She shot back, although she already knew the answer. Draco had once or twice talked about Ileana. Pansey bit back a moan as the brunnette wrinkled her nose, presumably at the question, or maybe at the smell of smoke still in the air.

"Yuck. No wonder you can't remember your last name. Which is pretty pathetic, by the way. Not knowing your last name because you're drunk, I mean. Like, seriously. Pathetic," Ileana said, making another face. "Are you even old enough to drink beer or smoke?" She asked skeptically, then added, "I'm Ileana," as an after thought, almost forgetting Pansey's question. "And my last name is Coutts." Except that was all Ileana knew to do with her family.

Pansey shrugged, "Sure it's pathetic, whatever." She waved her hand at her carelessly, "Seriously you need to loosen up." She rolled her eyes, "You're so...uptight." She laughed, "Do I look like I'm old enough to drink? I'm like fifteen or something." She scoffed, "Like I'd ever pay attention to the drinking age though. Seriously. You goody two shoes get on my nerve."

"I'm not uptight and I'm not a goody-two-shoes," Ileana snapped. "Smoking just bothers me because it effing stinks. And drinking underaged is just against the law. They made laws for a reason, you know," she said, wrinkling her nose at how she must sound.

"Yeah to screw everyone up." She rolled her eyes, "Laws make people want to break them." Pansey smirked at her, then laughed softly. Laws were stupid. That was the truth. She shook her head as she pulled the bottle up to her lips again. Pansey watched the expressions change across Ileana's face with only mild interest.

"If they didn't have ANY laws, the world would be so destructive no one would be alive. Killers would go on killing and all that stuff. That's not good. Unless you approve of killing?" she asked with a judging look at Pansey. Was Pansey a He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named supporter?

"Aw killers are stupid hun. If you kill someone, and you blatantly let it show, then you're going to have a pretty horrible life, law or no law." She shrugged, "It's simple logic. And I approve killing as long as it's with good reason." She muttered. It wasn't that hard to figure out. "God! _You_ are so uptight!"

The Gryffindor thought back to the last time she did anything against the rules. The time she broke the rules was when she left Hogwarts to spend the day in Diagon Alley with...Strip Riddle-Forrester. Ileana shuddered. He was dead now and she didn't like thinking about it. She softened her eyes, as they had widened in horror, and looked at Pansey. She suddenly realised that that was the only time she had broken any rules. "I'm not uptight," she said stubbornly.

Pansey smiled at her, "If I knew you better I'd say you'd had a bad experience with breaking the rules." She said quietly, "But I don't know you, so you could always just have some weird disease thing, where you get really weird expressions. She chuckled at that thought then started outright laughing, "You are so uptight."

Ileana then glared at Pansey. "I did not have a bad experience with breaking the rules." But her bad experience was so close to that. She just knew someone who had broken the rules with her and she had fun doing so and then BAM! The person kills themself without warning a few days later. Illeana made a pained face and avoided Pansey's eyes. "It's not funny," she whispered.

"All right all right. Don't get so uptight." Pansey chuckled, "By the way you reacted, I'm guessing you're lying to me. But whatever." She shrugged, "Not my business." Pansey looked away.

"I approve of killing with good reason. I can agree with that," Ileana said, going back to a topic of discussion they were previously talking about. "But some people think they have good reason, when their reasoning is really jacked up." Like the killing of oneself. Ileana shuddered again. Why hadn't she been there? "I wasn't completely lying to you," she said coolly, folding her arms over her chest. "Stop calling me uptight!" she added snappishly. "I don't see what you think is so funny! Tell me what you're laughing at!" Ileana demanded. It was so unlike her to demand.

Pansey sighed, "Do you have something against death Ileana?" She asked with a smile, "You seem to find it repulsive. Or something along those lines." She shook her head. "Aha! So you admit it! You were lying." She punched the air in victory. "Can't hold back from the truth." Then she sighed, "I don't know what I'm laughing at." She shrugged.

"Death_ is _repulsive! Even more than those nasty cigarettes. In fact, I'd rather smoke cigarettes myself than have anyone die! It's not fair. It's just not, okay!" she exclaimed, tearing up slightly. She wiped furiously at her eyes. "No one should die. Until they're old and ready. Not young. Never young." She sighed and eyed Pansey reproachfully. "You're insane. You're that happy that I'm lying? Oh right -- you're drunk."

Pansey giggled madly, "Well I see we've hit a nerve." She pulled out another cigarette. She really just couldn't resist the temptation. As she lit it, Pansey looked at Ileana with an amused expression, "So...what if I was about to kill myself now? Would you smoke a cigarette?" She was doing this on purpose - riling up Ileana. The girl had it coming to her. In fact she had a lot more than that coming to her. Pansey held a grudge against Ileana for what she did to Draco.

Ileana frowned, "If it would stop you and if I believed that you were serious," she grumbled. "But you're not going to kill yourself, so just shut up, okay? I don't like the topic of suicide." The last word was whispered. She made a disgusted face at the cigarette.

The Slytherin careless wreck smiled, "Really. How do you know that I'm not suicidal?" She whispered, pulling out her wand slowly, "I'm suffering of a broken heart. I'm a druggie. An alcoholic. I have no life. My grades suck. My entire family is dead. Death sounds good, now that I think about it. Why not..." She smiled coyly.

Ileana made a grab for the girl's wand. "Don't!" she practically screamed. "That's not going to solve anything! Please!" Tears formed in her eyes. "I'm sorry abour your parents. I don't even know if mine are alive or dead or if they know I exist anymore, and I'm still holding up! You just have to get passed it! And your grades can pick up. Just take some time to study. Get a tutor! And you can go to rehab for you substance abuse and... and you can find a way to mend your broken heart. Therapy!" she suggested.

Pansey smiled, and swiftly pulled her wand away, "Wow. Big nerve I've hit there." She watched her freak out, trying hard not to start laughing, "Calm down hunny. I'm not going to kill myself." She muttered, "You the one who needs the therapist."

"Yes!" Ileana snapped, angry now because Pansey had been faking. "You did hit a nerve!" Her eyes flashed red from the brown they had been seconds ago. "Don't make me angry, I'm serious. Joking about that isn't funny at all and if you think it is, then you're seriously messed up! I don't need a therapist," she added.

Pansey smiled at her, as she took a drag of her cigarette. She was very carefree and nonchalant in her actions, "Ileana, sweetie." She smiled, "You ned to take it easy hun! Live life big! Stop being so damn temperamental. And uptight. Live a little. Geeeeesh."

"I'm living life just fine, thank you. Just because I'm not a... a druggie and alcoholic, doesn't mean I'm not living life!" she snapped, looking at the ground instead of at the girl in front of her. "I'm not temperamental. You're calling me uptight and I'm not, and you're laughing at things that aren't all that funny. And you're joking about suicide, which is the worst thing you could do around me right now!"

"Are you? Are you really?" She smiled at her, "See, my theory is, when you give up childhood to schoolbooks and...men...you're missing out on a great opportunity." She rolled her eyes, "Look, there are a lot of other girls in this school worse off than me. Most girls are druggies, alcoholics, and sex addicts. I'm only a memeber of the first two social groups thank you very much." She glared at her, "I think it's funny. You'd think it's funny if you'd think about it for a while. As for suicide...well..." She smiled deviously.

"Who says I've given up my childhood to schoolbooks and men? Because right now I couldn't care less about my school grades," Ileana snapped. The more to piss off Dumbledore with her poor grades. And most of her poor grades were in classes where she still tried, such as Charms, Transfiguration, and Potions. "And I most certainly haven't given anything up for guys," she added haughtily. "I'm single." Ileana scoffed. "I highly doubt that I would find it funny. Why don't you tell me what you were laughing at so I can prove that to you."

"Really? That comes as a complete shock to me." She said half-sarcastically. She couldn't care less what this girl did and didn't care about. She could care less about this girl in general. She sighed and looked at her with an annoyed glare, "Would you stop talking? Some of us are trying to think." She growled. Pansey really hated people. It made her depressed to even think that other people had lives when she didn't, "Why don't you leave me alone before I lock you in the freezer? That works better for me."

Ileana rolled her eyes. "I can talk for however long I want!" she snapped, all riled up now. "I mean, what would you even have to think about? You're drunk! The only thing crossing your mind is: 'Hm. I should have another drink and get even more effed up in the head!'" She tutted and scoffed. "The freezer? Seriously? That's pathetic. Like you would actually do that." She rolled her eyes again.

Pansey raised her eyebrow at her, "Hm no that wasn't what I was thinking, but that's a bloody good idea." She smiled as she headed for the cupboard, pulling out another bottle out. She looked over at her, "Well I could always hire someone to cave your skull in, but I'm too lazy to do that. So the freezer will have to do." She turned around and put her hands on her hips.

Ileana shook her head in disbelief at the girl. "You're going to die of alcohol poisoning one day. Did you know that when you smoke and drink at the same time, the alcohol traps the chemicals from the cigarette in your stomach? Which is like, really unhealthy," she informed Pansey. "Just think about what that much be doing to your stomach." She stepped away from the girl as she talked about hiring someone to cave her head in. "You wouldn't do that. And I doubt the freezer would bother me anyways," she said haughtily, crossing her arms. "I'll just get mad and heat things up."

"Sucks for my stomach." Pansey mumbled with a shrug, "No one cares about being healthy here hun." She said as if it was obvious. Which it kind of was. Pansey turned around and raised her eyebrows, "Don't try me. I go through with my actions. Especially when I'm high. And especially because I'm a Slytherin." She growled at her as she threw a glare in Ileana's direction, "Get a grip, and stop being so damn cocky."

"Well you should care about your health. Because you can die if you don't. But whatever. When no one cries at your funeral because you were a druggie slash alcoholic bitch, don't complain in the afterlife," she shot at Pansey. "And I'm not being cocky. Just speaking the truth, that's all, biatch."

"Psh who really gives a shit about that crap? If someone cared enough about me, they'd cry for me. Druggie or not." She said with a heavy sense of hatred in her voice, "Did you just call me a biatch?" She laughed, "What are you afraid to say bitch?" She smiled, "Because I'm not." She got real close up to Ileana's face, "Bitch."

_***Slap.***_

Ileana swung her arm back and then forward until her hand collided with Pansey's cheek. "Eff you!" she snapped, her eyes blazing. "I don't swear that often," Ileana said defensively. "So yes, I said biatch. But I did say bitch before. I can say bitch." She just didn't often say other cuss words like 'shit' and 'f*ck.'

Pansey hardly fazed from the slap. Her highness made it hard to even feel the pain as it lightly trickled across her cheek. She smiled at Ileana, "That's it. Get angry. Come on. Let me have it. Tell me how you really feel." Maybe Pansey was masochistic. But it wasn't like she cared if she was anyways.

"I don't effing want to get mad!" Ileana growled, her voice and facial expression completely contradicting her actions. "It wouldn't be worth my breath or energy!" But her anger boiled and raged inside of her so suddenly that she wasn't able to hold it back anymore. She still, after almost six full years of trying, couldn't control her powers as well as she would have wished. Her regularly brown eyes turned a darker shade that soon turned red. But she didn't want to cause any trouble, so she tried to stop it. She focused her gaze downwards instead of directly at Pansey as her eyes watered from the heat they were producing. If she got any angrier, she'd end up setting something on fire.

Pansey raised her eyebrows, "Gee kid, calm down." She muttered, "Really, you look like you're about to explode." She shook her head and jumped back up on the countertop, "Give me a break. You'd feel the same way if you were high. But you don't. Because you're a temperamental, cocky little bitch." She threw a glare at her.

"Don't call me 'kid," Ileana snapped, her head also snapping up to glare right back at the girl. That's when she purposefully and gladly set the girl's hair on fire and then the counter of which she sat on. "And I'm not a cocky little bitch!"

Pansey smelt the burning hair before she felt it. How can you miss the horrifyingly raunchy smell of burning hair? Her eyes widened, and her hands automatically flew to her head. The flames licked at her fingertips before she jerked her hand back, "What the fuck?" She screamed, too frozen in shock to even jump off the counter, which was apparently on fire as well, "What happened?" she screamed, as she struggled to jump off the counter. She ran over to the sink and turned the water on, sticking her head underneath it. The charred hair she could fix. The burns on her scalp, face, and hands she could not. Maybe she wouldn't even fix the hair. Now she just wanted to make this girl's life as miserable as possible. Even more miserable than before.

Ileana rolled her eyes, satisfied by what she had done._ Serves her right, _she decided.

"Duh. I set your hair on fire. Aw, did that hurt?" she teased gloatingly. She had set things on fire before with just a look, but never a person. She felt empowered. At least her unusual magic was useful for something. "Bitches get what they deserve, don't you agree?" she taunted.

Pansey glared at her with such ferocity, she was sure if she was looking at herself, she'd be intimidated. She whipped out her wand in less than a few seconds, and she waved at her clothes, which were still slightly on fire, "You're going to pay for that." She whispered, "I'm not going to get revenge by hurting you though." She grinned, "I'm sure the headmaster will be pleased to hear about this."

At first, Ileana was intimidated, but when Pansey used Dumbledore as a threat, Ileana's face broke into a huge grin. "Okay. Then go tell the headmaster. But I'm not scared of him. And he won't do much. Maybe some detentions. But he won't expell me. He's scared to let me leave the school. But let's go, then, to the headmaster. Or you can go, I don't really want to see that old man's face." If Ileana had to choose one person she wanted out of her life, it would be Dumbledore.

Her eyes darkened, "Don't test me Ileana." Her grip on her wand tightened drastically. Pansey wouldn't even fight to control her emotions. She wasn't noble like Ileana. She was drunk, and she was high. Now wasn't exactly the best time to push her buttons, because Pansey could be the nastiest person in the world when she was angry.

"Oh I wouldn't bother testing you. I don't like wasting my time and I already know that you would fail," Ileana said coolly, her eyes glinting with malice and mischief. She didn't know where all this attitude had come from today, but she was loving it. And she really didn't like this Pansey girl.

Pansey sighed, and shook her head, "I told you you were cocky." She muttered and started for the door, before realizing her cigarette had been dropped somewhere. She pulled out another and lit it, before smiling at Ileana, "Have a nice life." She muttered, as she started out the door. She'd get her revenge. She just...didn't know how yet.

She did, however, know that Ileana was going to get what was coming to her. For it was all the Gryffindors fault that Pansey had her heart broken. It was all Ileana's fault that Drace had strayed from her. It was Ileana's fault that Pansey had turned to drugs and alcohol last year. It was her fault that Pansey's grades sucked. Maybe Ileana didn't know it was her fault, but Pansey swore to get revenge.


End file.
